


You Again

by M3zzaTh3M3z



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble, M/M, Meet-Cute, also death, so its not that cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 01:03:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8036209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/pseuds/M3zzaTh3M3z
Summary: Every day, Castiel meets Dean Winchester, falls in love, then watches him die.





	You Again

**Monday**

Castiel was heading for an important meeting, but the cute guy on the bus was distracting him too much to get his thoughts in any kind of order. He’d seen the guy on his bus a lot recently, even managed to catch his name when he answered the phone with, “Yes, Dean speaking. Who is it?”

Dean was the cause of many a distracted journey. Castiel blamed his bright green eyes and the thousand freckles dancing across his face and the smile that played on his lips as his head bobbed to whatever it was he usually listened to in those huge headphones.  He wasn’t wearing headphones today, though he still had the leather jacket he seemed to live in. He’d even flashed Castiel a tentative smile before taking the only free seat on the bus besides him. Maybe he recognised him as the weirdo who was always catching his eye from across the bus.

“Hello Dean,” is what Castiel would like to say, but the thought twisted his stomach and he had to look away out the window at the passing grey streets.  Trying to build up to doing it just tightened the knots. He took deep breaths, evenly in and out. This breath he was going to say it. Or this one. Or the next. Or –

The bus stopped and Dean got to his feet. Of course, this was his usual stop. Creepy as it was, Castiel always watched him cross the road as the bus got trapped in traffic. And because he was always watching, he saw the car.

Dean didn’t.

A few of the other passengers made shocked noises and muttered about how wasn’t it terrible, a young life gone just like that, but nobody tried to stop the bus driver as he drove them away.

Castiel nearly missed his stop. Worked on autopilot. Looked up the local newspaper that evening and found a very small article on the death of pedestrian earlier that morning. Dean Winchester – twenty-six years old. The funeral was on Saturday. Anyone could go along. Castiel made a mental note to go. Then he went to bed and slept.  And forgot.

 

**Tuesday**

Every week, Castiel visited the nearby second-hand bookstore. He was always on the lookout for unusual books on all subjects and Josie was kind enough to let him know when she had new stock. Even when she didn’t he still went along. It was quiet in there, like the towering shelves absorbed the noise of the city outside and Josie was happy for him to just browse as long as he liked.

When he entered, Josie was in a wheelchair behind the counter, though not without her usual smile. After attempting to brush it off as nothing, she confided that she had in fact had ‘a little bit of a fall,’ and had been forced to hire a shop assistant called Dean to help out while she was unable to sort the books out herself.  Castiel wished her well, assured he Dean sounded like a lovely young man and moved onto the new arrival shelf.

“’scuse me.”

Castiel turned to see a bright green eyes and a host of freckles peering out at him over the top of an enormous stack of books.  

Green Eyes nodded to the shelf behind him. “I need to get to the ladder.”

For a second Castiel was confused, but then he realised Green Eyes must be Dean so he stammered an apology and he shuffled out the way. He felt an unfair flash of irritation at Josie for choosing such an attractive assistant; how was he meant to concentrate on the books now? However, he did his best and was quite proud that he did not stare at all at the soft strip of flesh that was revealed when Dean’s shirt was lifted by him reaching for the top shelf.

There. On the highest shelf. The red bound leather volume. That lore book he’d been chasing for a while. Why did it have to be up there? Not that he was short, but Josie’s sure had tall shelves and he didn’t want to bother Dean when he was working by asking for the ladder.

Feeling like a child reaching for the cookie jar, Castiel pushed went on tiptoes and extended his hand as much as he could, careful not to knock the unsteady shelves. He needn’t have bothered, as Dean plucked the book off the shelf and examined it. “’On the Location of Angels in the Heavens?’ This what you wanted?”

Castiel said nodded and risked making eye contact.

The bright green eyes lit up with a grin as he held it out. “Here, I don’t need it. I found one right here.”

Given five hours and without a jackhammer heart, Castiel might have formulated a better response than blushing profusely and almost snatching away the book. Josie was tactful enough not to say anything as he purchased the volume but he still cringed to hear her question Dean about what he’d said as he left the shop. He walked fast, ready to get home and try to forget his screw up.

But then there was a crash as he was barely out the door. He spun around to see one of the huge bookshelves lying flat. A single arm at an odd angle sticking out.  Josie’s frantic call to an ambulance that could never come soon enough faded away. The memory of Dean’s broken body lying on a road came back.

Home. Sat on his bed with the light on. Trying to understand. He had seen Dean die, twice. And then he had forgotten. The two thoughts swirled until he thought he would never sleep again. Until he did.

And he forgot.

 

**Wednesday**

Meeting with clients in their own home was something Castiel thought it was more professional to avoid. But Zachariah insisted it was crucial for building good relations, and Castiel went where the boss told him to. There was a chance it was a good idea he supposed.

Then Winchester opened the door to his 6th floor apartment and Castiel realised it was a terrible idea to send him to deal with the best looking client the company had ever encountered.

“Hey, glad you’re here!” Winchester said, looking Castiel up and down as he stood in the open doorway. As usual when dealing with clients, Castiel was in his suit and trench coat, but Winchester didn’t appear to one of those men for whom business=formal attire because he was in jeans and a flannel shirt.

“Castiel Novak,” Castiel said, handing him his business card as was standard.

‘Angel Wings – helping small businesses soar!’ it read. The embarrassment at making someone read that was also standard. The care Castiel took not to touch the client’s hands as he handed it over was not.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr Winchester.”

“Call me Dean,” he insisted as he led Castiel into the open space kitchen/living room. Evidentially prepared, all the paperwork was already spread out on the table. As soon as Castiel was seated he launched into a long spiel about his business plan. Castiel forced himself to stop thinking about how pretty Dean was and actually do his job.

They started out talking business, like they were meant to. Dean had a good preliminary grasp, but Castiel was on hand to point out areas he missed. Together, they worked through ideas quickly and the conversation soon slipped into classic cars, Dean’s passion he was trying to build a life out of. Castiel didn’t know much about cars but sat like that, heads close over a table with the sky turning orange outside, he didn’t see, to mind.

“Coffee break!” Dean announced, getting to his feet. “We’ll have it on the balcony.”

The coffee was hot, too hot to drink so they lent on the low balcony railing chatting until they realised it had gone too cold and the shadows of the people on the street below had been stretched like plasticine.

“Apologies, I should get going,” Castiel said, surprised to find he’d enjoyed his afternoon so much. Hugely unprofessional of him he knew, but right then he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Oh, right.” Dean looked out of place in his own home for a moment. “I guess I’ll be seeing you?”  
“I only tend to do the preliminary meetings,” Castiel explained.

For a moment, in the low light, he could have sworn Dean’s face fell, but then he smiled. “Well then, thanks for all your help.”

“You’re welcome.” Castiel felt a ridiculous urge to kiss Dean then, or at least give him his number, but that would be unprofessional. Instead he gathered up his notes and left.  Crossed the street and prepared to walk back to the office. Looked up to the apartment balcony and saw Dean. He was seen. Dean leaned out to give a wave. Leaned out too far over a too low barrier. Fell like through jelly. Splattered like one on the street.

Castiel was running before he could think. Running away. Running home. Where he could drink and not think about how many times Dean Winchester had died. Not think about how once he fell asleep, he would forget.

 

**Thursday**

The local park was busy but Castiel still found a spot to read his book in relative peace. He only looked up when the freckly ice-cream vender circling the park passed by. They’d share a smile, before Castiel would duck down his head once more. He didn’t try and say hello. That guy was way out of his league.

At six, it was time to go back. He stood. And then heard the scream.

“Oh god, he’s dead! The popsicle stick went right through his eye!”

A crowd quickly gathered around, hysterical and asking panicked questions. One came up again and again. “Does anyone know his name?”

Castiel knew exactly what the ice-cream vender’s name had been but said nothing. Just made his way home and called Zachariah to explain he wasn’t going to work the next day. Then he called his brother and asked to meet him at a café the next morning. Before he fell into uneasy dreams he set his phone to remind of where to go. And then he forgot.

 

**Friday**

 Watching the cute barista who’d potentially flirted with him be vaporised by the steam from a malfunctioning coffee machine was the final straw for Castiel.

“Holy…” Gabriel breathed, quite openly staring at the mess across the café. “I did not expect it to look like that.”

Castiel was too busy freaking out to pay any notice to his idiot older brother. “Dean Winchester. I can remember now! That’s why I wanted to meet with you, you’ve got to help me with-“

 “Woah, calm down kiddo. Let’s get you out of here. Then you can talk like a crazy person.”

It was easy to slip out of the frightened crowd until they found a quiet bench nearby. “You knew that Dean guy?”

“I didn’t…” Castiel tried to explain. “Or, I thought I didn’t. Until he died and then I remembered when he died before and…”

“Try again from the beginning,” Gabriel suggested, and so Castiel did. Gabriel was unusually good at listening. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t call Castiel crazy. He didn’t even smirk or make his usual stupid jokes when Castiel made red-faced admissions of his various crushes on Dean. He just nodded, like this was all perfectly fine.

“Okay,” he said. “If you forget when you fall asleep, have you tried staying awake? That’s what I’d try first.”

Castiel stared. It was obvious.

“I’ll stick around,” Gabriel decided, patting him somewhat comfortingly on the shoulder. “I want to see how this turns out.”

 

**Saturday**

Early morning in a bar somewhere downtown was not where you would normally find Castiel, though Gabriel seemed right at home. Perched on a barstool, he worked his way through a wide variety of cocktails, but hadn’t forgotten his job. Every few minutes he’d ask about Dean, but Castiel hadn’t forgotten yet. Sipping his way slowly through a bottle of something he didn’t really care for, he kept watch.  He wasn’t sure of what he’d do when he saw Dean. Hopefully not come across too creepy. Although really, as some sort of time-warp zombie Dean was probably the stranger of the two. He hoped.

“Bathroom,” Gabriel announced, hopping off the barstool. “Remember Dean?”

Castiel nodded and continued watching the door. He heard someone slump onto the stool next to him, too soon and too heavy to be Gabriel and turned just as a familiar voice said, “You would not believe the week I’ve had.”

“Dean?” Castiel blurted out at the same time as the familiar freckle marked face exclaimed, “Cas?”

“You remember me this time?” Dean asked.

“You remember me?”

A quick exchange of stories confirmed they’d both had similar weeks, meeting the other over and over with no memory of them until the other died. Dean didn’t mention if they’d suffered similar crushes each time. Then, in an unexpected quick movement, he gave Castiel a hug that half pulled him off his barstool.

“I’m glad you’re safe buddy,” Dean confided. “Even if we don’t really know each other.”

Castiel felt himself get flustered, unable to say the words he wanted to yet again. But this was one time Dean Winchester was not going to slip through his fingers so in place of words, he planted a kiss on Dean’s forehead and hoped it got the message across.

“Freakin’ finally!” exclaimed Gabriel, stood watching. “Thought it was going to take you eons before you got the idea, baby bro!”

“What do you mean?” Castiel started to ask, but his words were whisked away as Gabriel snapped his fingers and they were back in the bar not far from the bunker, sans Dean. Back where they were meant to be.

 Castiel’s understanding of what had happened clunked into place.

“You created a pocket universe just for that?”

Gabriel grinned, overly proud. “But now you see what I mean! Humans come and go like…” he snapped his fingers. “If you’ve got your eye on one, you’d better move fast. Speaking of…” He tilted his head knowingly towards the elder Winchester returning from the bar with another round of drinks. “I’m gonna skedaddle.”

“Gabriel!”

But he was already gone.

Castiel was silent as Dean returned from the bar and slid into the booth next to him. Listened without hearing all his complaints about the disappearing archangel, all the while trying to build himself up to saying something. This breath. Or the next. Or the-

He turned his head to the side and Dean mirrored him on instinct. They were close, captured by the intimate distance alone. Dean swallowed, eyes with wide pupils trying not to stare at Castiel’s lips, unable to pull away, unable to know what to say.

So Castiel spoke. “Hello Dean.” And then he leaned in.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was my entry for the destieldrabblesdaily promo competition! Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> *fun fact* for some reason this was inspired by seeing a guy with a nametag saying Dean working at the coffee counter at Gloucester services
> 
> If you liked this, I also have works in the Haikyuu, Ace Attorney, Widdershins and My Hero Academia fandoms you may like. 
> 
> You can find writing tips and read about my published romance novella "A Grey Valentine's" on my blog: https://conwaywrites.wordpress.com


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